We Can Rule the World
by Lady Evadne
Summary: "Welcome back to the world of the living, Salazar." The Light will not stand a chance.


**Disclaimer: All characters, settings and themes recognised in the Harry Potter series belong to J.K Rowling.**

_Hey guys! So, I'm very easily bored. Sometimes I get bored with writing Convertimini Tempus. This is my release. :D _

_WCRTW is a side story that has nothing to do with Convertimini Tempus. It's a Voldemort/Salazar story (I'm not sure if there will be any romance, as of yet – I don't think it can _really_ count as incest) that came to me…in a dream. I thought the concept would be interesting, so here it is._

_Know that my focus is on Convertimini Tempus, so this won't be updated as often (and might not even be updated at all until CT is done)._

_Hope you like it!_

_~ Mae_

**Chapter 1**

Lord Voldemort fingered the crystal orb in his hand lovingly. In the darkness of the ballroom, it was the only source of light. Voldemort liked the dark. Unlike others, who felt vulnerable shrouded in darkness, it made him feel powerful. He always had the advantage in the dark.

Yet another year had passed with no noticeable progress in the war. Neither side had done anything to gain the advantage, aside from recruit. It was revolting, how many people joined Dumbledore and Potter. Did they truly think that that was the best choice, at the end of the day?

He wasn't deluded. He knew that if he went to battle now, not even his sizeable army of Death Eaters could win against the Light. However, he had worked diligently on this project, and now…now, he had something that would tip the odds in his favour. Oh, Dumbledore would never see it coming.

If he did say so himself, it was a terribly complex and Dark piece of magic. He had delved into the one branch of magic that he found himself afraid of – Necromancy. He would never admit it, but dead bodies and sunken eyes and decaying flesh…it gave him the heebie-jeebies. Nevertheless, he was prepared to do anything to take control of Wizarding Britain.

The purpose of the orb was simple. It was merely a confining place for the shrunken down corpse, and the corpse's soul. He had had a very hard time getting that soul. Turned out the man had a Horcrux, and he had destroyed it and entrapped the piece of soul that came with it.

The real magic was in the enchantments placed inside the orb. The magic compressed the space inside the orb gradually, until the soul had no choice but to go back into the corpse to avoid being destroyed. That was one of the beauties of Horcruxes. Souls always put up a fight.

If the soul moved too quickly into the body, it would die, and this would have been for nothing. It was lucky that Severus had insisted he test this on Wormtail before he tried it for real. He had had to assist Wormtail in making a Horcrux, because the pathetic weakling didn't have enough magic to make one himself. He had achieved it, however, and Voldemort had killed Wormtail, destroyed the Horcrux, captured the soul and placed the body and soul in a crystal ball similar to the one he had now. After two months, the soul had finally decided to return to Wormtail's body. Currently, Wormtail was in the kitchens, stuffing his greedy mouth with delicacies only the Malfoys could provide as if he had never died.

Today was the day. The orb was trembling in his hand, from the sheer magical aura of the person inside it. It was good to know that he was powerful. Voldemort wouldn't have been able to bear it if he had put so much work into this, only to resurrect an imbecile.

Taking out his yew wand, he tapped the orb and muttered, "_Confringo minima._" There was a quiet blast, as the orb broke open in a small explosion. The shrunken body inside it lay in his hand, while the glass pieces scattered the ground. Voldemort paid no attention to them, his focus on the man in his palm.

He was asleep. At least, that is what it looked like. His monkey-like face was devoid of all emotion, looking peaceful, and Voldemort could feel the heat emanating from the body. His own hand was ice-cold, and it felt odd to feel human warmth. No one would have expected this man to be one of the most evil, powerful and prejudiced wizards of all time.

"_Ennervate,_" Voldemort murmured, this time using the spell wandlessly. The body began twitching, and he put it on the ground before using '_Finite Incantatem'_, effectively breaking the _Reducio _he had put on it to shrink it. As an after-thought, he lit the torches of the ballroom as well.

The twitching grew more severe, and Voldemort knew it was reacting to the magic in the atmosphere. After being dead a thousand years, it must be painful to feel dark magic, coarse and unforgiving, coursing through the body again. Voldemort smirked when the twitching stopped, and the eyes opened, before closing shut again at the harsh light.

"Where am I?" a hoarse voice asked, the mouth movements strange. Probably getting used to moving again. "Who are you?" The grey eyes opened, squinted and moved to Voldemort.

"The last heir to the Slytherin line," Voldemort replied, mouth twisted in an odd smile. "Welcome back to the world of the living, Salazar."


End file.
